Pendant of Eternity
by Atlantis Forester
Summary: Jori, a clever, quiet girl, her hot tempered best friend, and her popular archenemy are transported to Middle Earth. There, they will learn that being heroes is probably the hardest thing beside losing the ones you love. On hiatus till further notice.
1. Everything Happens on a Birthday

Pendant of Eternity

  
by Atlantis Forester 

  
Short summary: Jorielle Syrien never fit in with ordinary folk. Her books, writing and imagination were her world, and the few friends she had were 'outcasts' of society as well. Little did she know that the pendant given to her on her birthday would make her discover an ancient magic and give way to the biggest adventure in a lifetime in Middle-Earth with her best friend and her worst enemy. There, they will all learn that the only thing harder than being heroes is losing the ones you love. 

  
  
  
A.N. I know, I know! There are tons of "modern people who go into Middle-Earth" fics, but I couldn't help it! ^^; I just HAD to write one myself!!! Still, I'll try to make it a little different, k? This chapter is completely rewritten. Any unusual British terms will have stars next to them. At the end of the narrative, there will be explanations. 

  
Chapter One: Everything Happens on a Birthday 

  
'As I was saying, Jori, how about a nice, loud birthday for once? The way they do it in America! It's really fun!' A short, slender girl with shoulder-length brown curls bobbed her head energetically as she chattered on. She turned her head to her dark-haired companion and realised that she had no audience. 

'Jori!' she exclaimed crossly. 'Are you listening to me?' 

Her friend nodded her head absently, her forest-green eyes intent on the pages of a thick, worn volume through thin, oval wire-framed glasses. 'Yes,' she said almost automatically. 'You have my full attention, Ally.' 

Annoyance flashed through chocolate eyes. 'Right, Jori,' she growled, 'You keep saying that. Now, really, shut the book, will you?' 

Jorielle Syrien heaved a sigh, and, with a great deal of effort, marked the page and turned it over. Pushing up the bridge of her glasses, she looked up at her friend… or, should I say, down, as Jori was especially tall, and Ally especially petite. 'What was it, then, that you wanted?' 

'A party,' was the curt answer. 

'A party? Whatever for?' Jori frowned and peered at Ally's sullen face. 'Is there some reason for a celebration?' 

Ally Clark groaned and hid her face in her hands. 'Oh, god. Jori, you're becoming worse every year. Now you can't even remember your own _freakin' birthday_!' 

Jori clenched her fist and looked away, her now marble-cold face devoid of emotion. 'Situations at home are… a little… tense, nowadays,' she said tightly. 'You know how it goes. Things like this aren't that important right now.' 

Ally's entire composure softened. 'Oh, Jori. But, if your mother heard what you just said… My family and I have known her since we first moved to England, and, by now, I know her enough to realise that it'd really stab her to know that her own daughter forgot things such as her own birthday.' She tried to penetrate the mask Jori had set on her face. 

  
  
  
The Syriens were not well off. Theirs was a worse situation than even the common working class of England. The only reason that Jori had succeeded in getting into prestigious university was because of her spectacular grades, which gave her a barely earned scholarship. Jori and her mother lived alone in a small, shabby and worn apartment and lived on the latter's poor salary. Astra Syrien - Jori's frail and tenderhearted mother - had worked ardently to provide Jori an education that would pull her from this kind of life. Jori was now working in small jobs to relieve some of the burden from Astra's shoulders, but in secrecy. Astra would be very pained if she knew that her daughter was attempting to make money for them already in such a young age. 

Jori loathed her father with a passion. The story of her parents was a misty affair to her, as neither had taken the time to clarify. All she knew was that her father was a well-educated lump who hardly bothered to work at all, as he came from an immensely well-to-do family, and that he had somehow cheated Astra out of her entire small fortune. Robert Enghelton had not even sent any relief for Jori's education. Presently, he had acerbated their already suffering situation by suddenly charging a lawsuit against Jori's mother to drain her even of the little money she had. 

  
  
  
'It's fine.' Jori swallowed hard. 'I just… I hate that bloke who dares to call himself my father! He…' She turned away again, a miniscule tear making its way down her cheek. 

Ally's jaw tightened. She, too, detested Robert. Never had she ever seen such blunt cruelty in another human beings. She only had ever read of these sorts in tales and in the news. 'I hate him, too.' Ally worked up a smile full of cheer. 'But, let's not be down in the dumps today… or tomorrow! It's your birthday in the morn! How about your birthday present? And what about that party?' 

Jori couldn't help cracking a smile at Ally's strong American accent and irrepressible joy of life. 'No party, I'm afraid,' she said. 'And for a gift... I don't know… How about a book?' 

The curls bounced and tumbled as Ally shook her head wildly. 'Books, books, books! A book? Again?! Listen, Jori, I love books, too, but there are other things that exist in this world! I'm starting to believe that the reason you need those glasses is because you've lived your entire life with that nose of yours stuck in them!" 

Jori fingered her slender reading glasses protectively. 'It is not! My whole family has bad eyesight!' 

Ally rolled her eyes. 'Whatever. Anyways, since you obviously shouldn't be trusted in choosing your birthday day present, I will.' She strode away purposefully. 

Jori instantly buried her nose again into the book on her lap: _The Lord of the Rings_, naturally - her favourite. She simply loved reading. It took her away from all the painful reality of the cruel and hardened world. 

She glanced at the big clock suspended on the wall. And groaned. It was time for her philosophy class. Reluctantly, Jori picked herself up and hurried off to class. 

  
  
  
'Make a wish, my dearling.' Astra Syrien's careworn, gentle figure smiled up at her daughter's, love apparent in every line of her face. She pushed the small, homemade cake closer to Jori from the other end of the tiny folding table. 

Jori suddenly felt exceedingly childish, as she had every time it came for her to make her birthday wish ever since she was thirteen. When you are in your new teens, one is sure that it is normal to wish for things such as magical powers, and entering the world of your book. When you're newly twenty… well, it feels rather uncommon. Nevertheless, Jori could not help it, and wished for those childish desires she'd wished for every year since she had first discovered the literary world of fantasy. She had different reasons egging her for these wistful expectations, naturally, than a ten-year-old child; however, the basis was the same. One only wishes when they wish to change something. For Jori, it was to have different life be offered to her mother and her. 

_I wish_, she thought fiercely, eyes shut, _that I had magical talent, to help Mum. I wish that I could go into my book, however childish that sounds._ She blew. 

Inwardly, she knew that the wishes would probably never come true, yet she wished for them all the same. She didn't think she'd ever wanted anything more. 

Again, she waited, and was disappointed. There was no flash of amazing white light. There was no sudden change of their surroundings. Dejected, Jori looked up to her mother. Astra offered her a smile full of cheer. 

Astra produced a small wooden box the size of her fist. Peaceful eyes, ever young, and ever reminiscent of the deep blue sea, gazed steadily at her. 'When it was my twentieth birthday, my grandmother - not my mother, unfortunately; she had passed away three years before - gave me this on her deathbed. It's a family heirloom that has been passed down from daughter to daughter only. I never would salvage it. She told me to honour and revere it with my life. I will ask the same of you.' 

When Jori opened the box, she instantly understood why. Inside the black velvet-lined box lay the most beautiful creation she'd ever laid eyes on. Hanging from some silvery-gold thread-like chain with no clasp was a shimmering white jewel. She only said two words: 'Thank you.' 

Astra held out her hand. 'Don't try to slip it on by pulling over your head; it's far too small.' 

'How do I put it on? There's no clasp.' 

'Hold it to your neck, dearling. It will do the rest herself.' 

Jori did not stop to muse on the oddity of the entire situation. She did as she was told, and held the pendant to her neck. Suddenly, it flared with brilliant white light, and she felt a sudden warmth encircle her throat. In wonder, she stroked the pendant. 'I feel… safe,' she murmured. 

Astra patted Jori's dark head. 'That would be because you are, dearling.' She pulled her daughter close. 'Remember that you are the person I treasure most in the world. And as long as you have that necklace, I will know for certain that you'll be all right.' 

A thought flitted across Jori's mind. _Now, what would make her say that?_ she wondered. _I'm not in any danger. She makes it sound like I'll be leaving her forever soon._ A slight smile touched her lips. _And that won't be happening. _

  
  
  
Ally leaned back dreamily. 'It's a _beautiful_ day!' she said happily, arching her back. 'You're lucky that it's nice out on your birthday.' 

Jori gave her a sideway glance. 'I wonder if it has anything to do with your very beloved Boulder-head?' 

Ally swung her fist at Jori without hesitation. Jori hurriedly ducked it and Ally missed. She was terribly lucky to have dodged it, actually, as she was an athletic catastrophe. 

'I was teasing!' exclaimed Jori. 'You're not going to bloody knock me out for a waggish remark, are you?!' 

'His name is _not_ "Boulder-head"! It's "Matthew"! Get it right!' Ally was huffing indignantly. 

'He _is_ a boulder-head,' retorted Jori, 'and besides, what would the fun of being around him be if I couldn't pester him?' 

Ally was aiming a right hook when a male voice drawled behind them, sarcasm dripping from every word. 'Thanks, Jori, you make me feel so special. I didn't know I meant that much to you.' 

It was Jori's turn to aim a punch. Matthew - or Matt, as Ally preferred to call him - easily swerved it. 'Pathetic,' he drawled again. 

Jori gave him an especially dirty look. 'You're as special as beetle dung rolled in dust.' 

'Beetles don't have dung. And who would roll dung in dust, anyways?' 

'I never asked, Boulder-head.' 

'I asked myself the question.' 

'Well, I never heard it.' 

'It was my brain.' 

'You don't have one.' 

'Sorry, you seem to be getting confused. You mean that you don't have one.' 

'I know exactly what I said!' 

'That's what you say. Sadly, you're an immensely confused girl, like I said.' 

'Shut up, Boulder-head.' 

'I love you, too.' 

'How childish!' 

'Matt!' Ally pushed an amused Jori aside and threw herself in her boyfriend's arms. A prolonged kiss followed. Jori imitated them, making exaggerated motions. Two passer-by's sniggered. Both stopped for a moment to smack Jori on the top of her head, then returned to their little paradise. 

It was then that a most unpleasant interruption occurred. Cheryl Brook and her group of idolising friends spied them. 

Cheryl Brooks was an immensely rich girl. She paid a high price to enter the university, as did her entourage. Not particularly intellectual or clever, it really was a wonder why they'd accepted her. She was immensely popular with the males, however, and, thus, was also immensely popular among everyone else. Cheryl was most definitely not a nice person. She was very stuck up, unhesitant in flaunting her looks, and extremely cruel to anyone she did not like. Such people were Ally, and most especially Jorielle Syrien. 

Flipping wavy blonde hair - which was dyed; its original colour was some sort of light chestnut - and striking an arrogant pose, Cheryl sneered elegantly. 'Oh, like, look!' she said. 'It's, like, Shirley Temple and… _Four-Eyes_.' Oddly enough, though she hated Ally, who was a perfect median of an American, Cheryl imitated the fashion and speech patterns of the United States. She did not possess the unique accent the Americans had, yet somehow managed to use their expressions and manner. 

Her friends sniggered. 

Ally pulled herself off of Matthew and eyed Cheryl from the top of her dyed hair to her exceptionally tight shirt, to her leather 'mini-skirt' to the tip of her high-heeled toes with great dislike. 'Oh,' she said slowly. 'You.' 

Jori gritted her jaw, and, deciding to ignore the unwelcome presence, re-opened her book, and pushed up the bridge of her glasses. Getting bored with the non-reaction they'd gotten, Cheryl and her friends contented themselves by throwing their empty cans at Jori's silent, still figure before they left. Every can was well aimed, yet, strangely enough, each missed their mark by quite a distance. Jori continued to ignore them. 

Meanwhile, Ally and Matthew were shaking in rage at Jori's treatment. Before Matthew could even move forward, however, Ally was there. 'Cheryl,' she said, smiling sweetly, 'do you like sandwiches?' 

Cheryl wrinkled her nose with disdain. 'Ew, like, just _think_ of the calories!' 

Ally smiled at her with pity. 'Oh, then I'm sure you'll love this one; it's non-fat. Actually, it packs quite a _punch_!' She let out a formidable punch, leaving a sobbing Cheryl with a nose that bled torrents of blood. 

Walking back to an extremely entertained Jori and a grumbling boyfriend, Ally cracked her knuckles. 'That felt good,' said Ally. 'I love jokes like that. Third punch this week. Close up, I saw traces of that old black eye I'd given her a while ago. I had been starting to worry that she'd forgotten that one.' 

'Don't worry,' said Jori. 'I'm sure she won't forget anytime soon. But, really, you didn't have to.' 

'Are you kidding me? I've been _waiting_ for an excuse to do that for ages!' 

Matthew started. 'Ally!' he exclaimed, 'We forgot her present!' 

Ally jumped. 'Of course! Matt and I got you your present,' she said to Jori. 'It ended up being a book - _again_ - but a special one.' 

'Might as well tell her what the gift is while you're at it,' said Matthew, sarcastic. Ally gave a little exclamation and slapped her hand over her mouth. Matthew turned to Jori. 'Open it,' he urged. 

Jori ripped the wrapping off-ironically, it was dotted with pictures of the actors of _the Fellowship of the Ring_. Out came a long, slender box the size of a considerable volume. 'I seem to be receiving lots of things in boxes, lately,' remarked Jori before taking a small key Ally handed to her and unlocking it. A black leather-covered tome appeared, with the words 'the Lord of the Rings' printed in gold on it. Jori was speechless. 

Ally elbowed her. 'So, what d' you think of it, eh? Collector's edition, and real leather! Chic, eh?' 

Jori tightened her lips, closed the box, locked it, and shoved in into Ally's arms. 'I can't take it,' she said. 'It must have been so expensive! I could never give you two gifts as good as this, even if I had twenty more years!' 

Ally shoved it back into Jori's arms. 'It's a gift,' was the cheerful answer. 'And Matt and I have more than enough money to spare. Between the two of us, it was really only a trifle. And you don't have to give us gifts as good as this.' 

Jori threw herself on the two and hugged them tightly. 'You're such good friends,' she choked. 'I don't deserve you two!' 

'I know,' said Matthew, grinning. 'But we knew it would be worth it, so stop embarrassing us!' 

Jori turned tear-filled eyes at him. 'I don't have the heart to hit you,' she said. 

He laughed. 

Ally suddenly noticed a glimmer from Jori's neck as she shifted to sit on the ground. 'Jori, what's that?' 

Jori pulled out her pendant. 'This? It was my mother's gift to me.' 

Ally opened wide eyes. 'Did you win a lottery overnight or something?! That thing looks _extremely_ expensive. It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen!' 

'It's a family heirloom.' 

Matthew shook his head admiringly. 'Blimey, that's a stunner, that is,' he admitted. 'Our gift is nothing compared to that. It doesn't even look like _human_ make!' 

'No, I love your gift just as much,' replied Jori, tucking her necklace back in. 

Ally pinched Jori's cheeks. 'Aren't you just sweet!' she exclaimed. 'Seems like you've got an unusually lucky birthday.' 

Jori started. 'Oh, we'd better get going.' 

Ally sighed and scratched her head wistfully. 'Do we have to? It's only some little expedition, anyways.' 

'Yes, but it'll be an important lesson. We're supposed to observe wildlife at its fullest, and that ought to be interesting.' 

Matthew kissed Ally. 'Come on, love. It can't be that bad.' 

'Speak for yourself,' mumbled Ally half-heartedly against Matthew's shirt. 'Brooks and the snob gang will be there. You don't have to deal with anyone of them, as females and males will be separated. Plus, we have the Relentless.' 

Matthew laughed. 'Cheryl Brooks and Professor Rimes! You're unlucky. Well, the male group has got Professor Schwartz.' 

Ally looked at him enviously. 'Oh, he's the coolest! How come you get all the luck!' 

'That must be because I'm so wonderful.' 

'I agree.' 

'When you wake up and reach the real world, let me know.' 

  
  
  
There was a great deal of hushed whispering and contemptuous giggles when Jori and Ally, both shouldering their packs, clambered into the long bus. Almost everyone in general gave the two a noxious treatment, but, due to the recent incident with Cheryl, the reaction was even alarming. It was more like being in a local, run-down high school than a distinguished university. Legs were sticking out to purposefully trip them, young women spreading out on their seats as to not leave them a place to sit. 

The general treatment should have been harsher to Ally, who was the cause of this, but everything was mostly carried out on Jori. Ally was disliked, yes, but Jori even more so. Why, you ask? Jori was always quiet, bookish and ignored everyone with the exception of her few friends. Cheryl had led everyone to believe that this was out of a sense of superiority and disdain. They had come to see Jori as a cold, distant and haughty girl, which was far from true. To Ally's distress, Jori had not bothered to ever set them right. In Jori's world, it did not matter what her peers thought of her, and though it gave her considerable hardships, she was contented with the distance everyone gave her. 

Jori was a well-tempered girl, mind you; quite on the peaceable side. Perhaps a trifle too quiet and laid-back, but that shouldn't have bothered anyone. She did, however, like any other individual, have her occasional tempers, especially when it came to those few she kept close to her heart. Most especially her self-sacrificing mother. 

Everyone knew this, as no one would ever forget the only other time she'd ever gotten angry. A year ago, some thoughtless boys had supposed that a funny, lewd comment on mothers would suit the particular situation. Their target happened to be Jori. 

She'd flown into a blind rage. Naturally, Jori got into a fight, and had to be pulled forcefully off by three teachers, but what was most burnt into everyone's memories was the aftermath: for weeks afterwards, she frightened the boys in horrific, revengeful ways till they couldn't take it and transferred to a different university. It was well known that Jori did not easily forgive anything. 

One foot succeeded in tripping her. Jori's drink - Ally had treated her to some coffee earlier - flew in the air and spilled all over Jori, splashing a little on Ally. Jori's face was as cold as marble. She moved icy emerald eyes on the culprit, who could not help cringing slightly under the cold gaze. Quietly, Jori continued to move to the back of the bus, Ally boiling behind her. _I can endure this_, Jori thought. _It's only a trifle._ However, she could not endure what was next. 

The fatal words came out of Cheryl Brooks's mouth. She, unlike the others, had forgotten the incident a year ago. 'Hey, Syrien!' said Cheryl, sniggering. 'You should have, like, figured out that you were, like, worth nothing by now! I heard, that, like, your mother wasn't, like, married! Daughter of a whore, eh?' 

Ally had never feared Jori so much in that one instant. The comment was far worse than that of those boys, who'd only hinted at an offending matter. If possible, Jori's face became colder still, chips of hard ice replacing her eyes. She moved slowly to Cheryl in a straight line. The blonde realised that she must have finally crossed the line. She squeezed back as far as she could into her seat, frightened eyes moving to and fro. 

Confusion and chaos followed. Cheryl was desperately trying to escape Jori's relentless attacks. Ally threw herself on Jori, trying to pull her off and girls screamed from all directions. 'Jori,' she said desperately, 'Stop! You'll get hurt!' 

'She shouldn't have bloody _dared_ to say that, then!' Jori's furious voice rang loud and clear over the screeches and cries for help from Cheryl. 'No one can bloody hell insult my _mother_ in my presence!' 

Ally clung to Jori with desperate strength. 'Stop! Jori, STOP!' 

Jori continued to pummel Cheryl. For some odd reason, a very strange name flashed through her head. _Middle-Earth._

The glimmering pendant had slung out from under Jori's jumper*. All of a sudden, the ground gave a terrific lurch, and the air around Ally, who had her arms slung around Jori from behind, Cheryl, who was gasping for breath in Jori's hands, and Jori herself. There was one last cry from three voices. 

When the light finally faded and the ground stopped sending tremors, the alarmed girls in the bus realised that the threesome had vanished. 

  
  
  
*jumper: sweater in Brit. Term 

  
  
  
A.N. I've designed Jori especially to make her be a non-Mary-Sue. But if some disagree, please notify me! Review, please! 


	2. Eldar

Pendant of Eternity

  
by Atlantis Forester 

  
Short summary: Jorielle Syrien never fit in with ordinary folk. Her books, writing and imagination were her world, and the few friends she had were 'outcasts' of society as well. Little did she know that the pendant given to her on her birthday would make her discover an ancient magic and give way to the biggest adventure in a lifetime in Middle-Earth with her best friend and her worst enemy. There, they will all learn that the only thing harder than being heroes is losing the ones you love. 

  
  
  
A.N. THIS IS A **NEW CHAPTER TWO**!!! Also, no one will be able to reproach my Elvish. I've been studying it for almost two years, straight out of the book, and have made sure that nothing here is made up! Including the tenses and grammar! The only fault is that I have, at times, mixed up Sindarin with Quenya because of the limited vocabulary, and I occasionally have a little word-switch. But I'm sure you'll forgive me! 

For the exact translations, you can e-mail me. 

  
  
  
Chapter Two: Eldar 

  
  
  
The extensive libraries of Rivendell were filled with rare and precious tomes. Shelves upon shelves and rows upon rows of volumes stretched out, the next even more fascinating than the former. Hands strayed to the tempting, hard-pressed to choose one among so many. There were histories, deeds and tragic tales of long-past heroes, merely faded memories now except in the minds of creatures such as elves, wizards, and wise men. 

Frodo trailed his hand over the jaded cover of a thick book. Elvish script flowed gracefully along the pages, telling long narratives of an era long-gone. 'Sam,' said Frodo, 'Do you think that Lord Elrond has books about… about the Ring?' 

Sam's curly head had disappeared behind a tome nearly as large as himself, and he was settled in an armchair. All one could see was a pair of indistinguishable hobbit-feet poking out between cushions and book. 'Mister Frodo? Did you ask somewhat?' The voice was very muffled. 

Frodo's hand could not quite cover his smile. 'Blimey, Sam, what in the Shire are you reading?' 

A pair of shining brown eyes peered from the side of the enormous volume. 'It's about Elves,' he explained eagerly. 'There's not much a poor hobbit like myself can read here, most of it being written in Their script, but there are some things. By the bye, Mister Frodo, how are you feeling?' 

Frodo absently raised his hand to his shoulder and rubbed the nearly healed wound. He shivered. 'I'm fine, Sam' he reassured his friend. 

Worry lined Sam's forehead, but he questioned no further on Frodo's wound. 'Anyway, Mister Frodo, you were asking something of me?' 

Frodo smiled. 'It's nothing, Sam. Go back to reading. You should take the opportunity to learn as much as you can while you're here in Rivendell. After all, you've always wanted to see Elves, haven't you?' 

Sam's eyes were bright. 'Oh, yes, they're wonderful. The Elves, that is. I'm ever so glad we were able to come here, Mister Frodo.' 

Frodo's eyes were slightly shadowed. 'Yes. Go on, Sam. I'm sure you'd rather read than chatter aimlessly with me,' he ushered Sam, despite the latter's protests. When Sam was again engrossed in his reading, Frodo's hand lifted itself automatically to pat the ring against his chest. 

  
  
  
  
Jori groped around herself in the gloom, searching desperately for her glasses. If they were broken, she would be in a great deal of trouble. Finally, her hand hit the familiar shape. She sighed in relief as she checked for any damage. Slipping them on, she noticed one long scratch on the side and that the frames were slightly bent, but she would have to bear with it. 

The moment of mounting panic appeased, Jori was able to concentrate on other dilemmas. She felt oddly light-headed and ached all over, as if she'd lost more than a pint of blood and had been dropped--far from gently--as well as roughly tossed around. Blinking blearily, Jori suddenly took notice of her surroundings. And suddenly did not feel tired. She was in an entirely unfamiliar area. Not only that, but she was in a wooded unfamiliar area. _Bloody hell! I'm in a forest!_ The thought rang in her mind over and over like the regular peals of a churchbell. 

With a Herculean effort, Jori scrambled to her feet in an ungainly manner, shouldering her pack--miraculously, it was still with her--and instantly tripped over an inert figure. Stumbling, Jori dropped to her knees beside it. The messy brown curls identified the figure as Ally. Alarmed, Jori turned her friend over and noticed a large bruise spreading near Ally's temple. 'Ally!' 

Ally stirred, murmuring, 'Jori? Is that you? What happened? Ow…' 

Jori helped Ally sit up. 'Truth to tell, I haven't a notion where we are. Last thing I remember…' 

'You were pounding Brooks,' Ally said suddenly. 'I was trying to hold you back, then there was this light…' 

'I don't know what happened from there,' said Jori. 'But I think Cheryl might be here, too. I've got a feeling.' 

'Let's look,' suggested Ally. 

'Are you sure you feel well enough to walk?' 

'I'll be alright. I've just got this mega bump on my forehead… Oh, for Pete's sake, Jori!' 

Jori frowned. 'What?' 

'You look terrible!' 

'Well, thanks,' came the sour response. 

'You're welcome.' 

'Ally, now is not the time to exchange quips. We have to find Cheryl. Provided that she is here.' 

They were interrupted by a terrified whimper coming from behind a large tree. 

'God isn't kind enough to me,' muttered Ally. 

'Brooks?' called out Jori, turning around the trunk of the tree. 'Is that you?' 

They came across a very dishevelled Cheryl. Sporting rather nasty scratches and bruises as well as smudged makeup, the blonde was not a pretty sight. She was huddled against the ancient, gnarled roots of the tree, sobbing and on the verge of hysteria. On the whole, Jori and Ally started to feel a little sorry for her. 

Each abruptly noticed their state. Ally was the cleanest in a bright yellow v-necked jumper and white shorts. Her condition was slightly muddy. Cheryl was draped in a tiny black skirt and her usual style of clothes. She entirely lacked modesty of any sort, and had the worst injuries--most, naturally, being inflicted by Jori herself. Jori, on the other hand, was the filthiest in a cable-knit green jumper and worn jeans splattered with brown (the coffee and mud combined) and a long, shallow and jagged cut going down her dirty cheek. 

Fortunately for the girls, everyone had their things with them. 

Jori cleared her throat. 'Er, right. Firstly, do any of you have an inkling of where we are?' 

Both girls looked away, Ally unhappily, and Cheryl in a sullen manner. Jori bit her lip. 'I suppose… I suppose we should keep walking till we find a stream, or somewhat of the like. It's all we can do, for now.' 

They were lucky. Not too far was a clear, pebbled river. Splashing their faces and drinking the cold water lifted their spirits a little. 'How about we have a wash?' offered Ally. 'Each to their turn.' 

Jori nodded. 'You go first, Ally.' 

Ally eyed Jori. 'Uh, I think you should go first. You look the worst. Cheryl will go next. She's almost as bad as you.' Cheryl glared at both girls noxiously. Ally returned the favour with a far more fearsome face. 

Shrugging, Jori began to pull off her clothes as her companions pulled away to give her privacy. Using a special herbal soap--Professor Rimes had distributed these earlier to all her students; the wilderness needed to stay clean--she scrubbed herself. It was a quick process. Jori wanted to get out of the water as swiftly as she could; the icy cold of the liquid was numbing her flesh. After drying herself off, she pulled out fresh garments from her bulging pack. As she searched for socks, her hand hit the slender box which contained the _Lord of the Rings_ Ally and Matthew had given her. 

Grinning at herself, she pulled on her things, slipped her footgear on, and joined Ally as Cheryl took her turn. 

Ally sighed, hugging her knees. 'So.' 

Jori finished braiding her moist ebony locks and rubbed her eyes wearily. 'Ally, while I was bathing, I noticed something strange about this place.' 

She frowned. 'What is it?' 

'The constellations. They're completely different!' 

Startled, Ally looked up. 'Why… you're absolutely right!' 

As Jori tended to her cut, she said, 'That's not the only thing. I feel… I feel like we're not _anywhere_ near home. It's like… it's like we're in another world.' 

Ally closed her eyes, tired. 'You never know, Jori. I don't have a good feeling about this. I never believed in the supernatural, before, but there's something definitely fantastic about this. I mean… we were just in a bus about to leave for an excursion, then… we're here.' 

Shortly after, Cheryl returned, looking far more like her old self in a new set of--warmer!--clothing. The haughty and petty expression had returned, even though the fear, apprehension and dourness had not. Ally let go of a loud snort and left for her own round. There was a chilling silence until the brunette returned, sleek hair rolled into a twist and outfitted in a dark yellow wool jumper and jeans. 

It was already night, by then. Jori sighed. 'This'll have to do for now. We will have to see what can be done when it's light, tomorrow.' The girls pulled out squishy sleeping bags--they had no tent--from their bags and snuggled themselves at the uncomfortable roots of a great oak tree. 

  
  
  
  
Glorfindel bounded lightly over a fallen log crossing his path and looked back for Legolas. A blurred shape whizzed towards him, and Glorfindel found himself tackled by the other elf. Their peals of laughter ringing in the shade of the forest like twin clamouring bells, the two golden-haired elves rolled around for a while amongst the leaves on the ground before rising and dusting themselves. They raced each other gaily--which, to the ordinary eye, would have looked more like green and brown shadows flitting back and forth among the trees. 

Legolas emerged the victor of this contest of speed, and Glorfindel afterwards outdid the former in a test of strength. With light steps, they tread silently on the floor of the forest, called their mounts, and set out to return to Rivendell. As they cantered, the two elves raised their voices in song: 

'*_A Elbereth Gilthoniel,  
silivren penna míriel  
o menel aglar elenath!  
Na-chaered palan-díriel  
o galadhremmin ennorath,  
Fanuilos, le linnathon  
nef aear, si nef aeron!_'

'*_Noro lim, Asfaloth!_' cried Glorfindel suddenly to his fleet-footed horse, who leapt ahead and put on a greater speed. '*_Túle linte ar dín, Ernil Legolas!_' 

(A.N. *_Noro lim, Asfaloth!_ --> Ride on, Asfaloth! *_Túle linte ar dín, Ernil Legolas!_ --> Come swift and silent, Prince Legolas!) 

Legolas followed suit, murmuring soft words to his mount and urging him forward. Flaxen hair flying about, he questioned Glorfindel, '*_Arat Glorfindel, na dagnir coire nev?_' 

(A.N. *_Arat Glorfindel, na dagnir coire nev?_ --> Noble Glorfindel, is battle stirring near?) 

With a negative sign of his head, Glorfindel tapped his ear and said, '_Laste!_' 

(A.N. *_Laste!_ --> Listen!) 

Indeed, as Legolas strained his hearing, he perceived noises--they did not seem far off. The elf dismounted his horse and signalled to his companion to do so as well. '*_Túle ndu i rocho. Del nar ar glam._' 

(A.N. *_Túle ndu i rocho. Del nar ar glam._ --> Come down from the horse. Feet are without noise.) 

With a nod of assent, Glorfindel reined in Asfaloth and bounded lightly off the stallion's back. '*_Golodh._' 

(A.N. *_Golodh._ --> Wise.) 

They did not wander very far when they heard strange voices speaking in a harsh, accentuated language unknown to them. '*_Hin nar ú-curu waith mí nólë esgallo, Legolas. Hi nath ú-vagori. Hin nar edain!_' 

(A.N. *_Hin nar ú-curu waith mí nólë esgallo, Legolas. Hin nath ú-vagori. Hin nar edain!_ --> Legolas, these are unskill(ed) people in the lore of hiding. These will not be swordsmen. These are Men[humans]!) 

Having noting upon the tyro nature of these strangers, Legolas and Glorfindel relaxed their guard and assumed the natural ease which befalls individuals when it is clear to them that they are masters of the situation. Though still cautious, the elves were not worried, and were more curious than wary. Without much effort to conceal themselves--for it was clear that the clumsy humans would not remark their presence--, they followed the sounds and came upon a small clearing in which three very oddly apparelled and equipped young girls sat in a cacophonous conference. 

Not a single word uttered from their mouthes were familiar to either Legolas or Glorfindel--which left them quite in a state of confusion, for both were well-versed in all languages. The two fair elves exchanged bemused frowns and found the new language rather displeasing to the ear for its sharpness. As comprehension was no longer an option, they set upon observing the strange foreigners and marked upon a overly aggressive approach--very scandalising of females--in each them, one in particular (an ill-tempered brunette). The dark-haired one with an unusual style of spectacles seemed the calmer one, and the tow-headed one the source of the trouble. 

Suddenly, the dark-haired girl clapped her hand on the vivid brunette's shoulder. '*_Him le ur,_' she said. 

(A.N. *_Him le ur._ --> Cool thy(thou) heat.) 

Legolas could not control his impetuosity and burst forth from the cover of the trees. '*_Quenuvalye i lambar Eldareva!_' 

(A.N. *_Quenuvalye i lambar Eldareva!_ --> Thou canst speak the tongues of the Elves!) 

Crying out in surprise, all three girls stumbled back and tumbled over each other in an ungainly manner. The one who had spoken in Elvish was the first to rise from the dirt. When she got her first good look at Legolas, she jumped and pointed at him, shouting something at the top of her lungs. 

Glorfindel emerged and stood sternly at Legolas's side. None of the two had understood her. '*_Man nar le?_' 

(A.N. *_Man nar le?_ --> Who art thou?) 

She uttered only one, strangled word. '*_ELDAR!_' 

(A.N. *_ELDAR!_ --> ELVES!) 

  
  
  
  
A.N. Please review! I worked hard on this chapter, trying to get through my _impossible_ author's block, so please appreciate my efforts and review! Also, just in case you wanted background information, I studied the Elvish tongues for about two years. 

  
  
  



	3. Merry Meeting

Pendant of Eternity

  
by Atlantis Forester 

  
Short summary: Jorielle Syrien never fit in with ordinary folk. Her books, writing and imagination were her world, and the few friends she had were 'outcasts' of society as well. Little did she know that the pendant given to her on her birthday would make her discover an ancient magic and give way to the biggest adventure in a lifetime in Middle-Earth with her best friend and her worst enemy. There, they will all learn that the only thing harder than being heroes is losing the ones you love. 

  
  
  
A.N. THIS IS A **NEW CHAPTER THREE**!!! Also, no one will be able to reproach my Elvish. I've been studying it for almost two years, straight out of the book, and have made sure that nothing here is made up! Including the tenses and grammar! The only fault is that I have, at times, mixed up Sindarin with Quenya because of the limited vocabulary, and I occasionally have a little word-switch. But I'm sure you'll forgive me! 

For the exact translations, you can e-mail me. 

  
  
  
Chapter Three: Merry Meeting 

  
  
  
After a night of restless sleep, all three girls felt very disgruntled and were in very unpleasant humours. Their mood darkened even more with the discovery of their want of sustaining food. Jori divided a ham sandwich into three portions, but it only resulted in two bites for each (Cheryl had consumed her part unwillingly--Ally thought it a waste; Jori found it necessary for all to eat). 

Thus, when the sun had risen rather high in the sky, the only option left for the girls was to sit and squabble over who would forage for food. Ally said that she had no knowledge of plants; Cheryl did not know the distinctions between harmful and safe; Jori simply didn't know what could be edible in a untamed forest. It was then that Cheryl--by far the most discontent member of the three--began to put Ally's teeth on edge with incessant complaints. After a while, Ally's short temper burst into flames. 

'Never, _never_ happy!' she shouted. '_Always_ complaining and making a mess of things! I swear, if I hear that whiny voice of yours again, I'll _kill_ you!' 

'Like--' Cheryl started. 

'_Argh_! _Shut up_! I can't stand this! I can't stand this!' Ally screamed, stomping her foot and throwing a fit. 'Always that _insufferable_ "like"! I _hate_ it! I _hate it_!' 

Cheryl took one step forward, outraged, but Ally bellowed before she did. 'Don't come near me, you _freak_! _Don't come near me_! You're _so_ damned _annoying_! _Annoying_! No! _Beyond_ annoying! You shouldn't even exist! _Stay away from me, you annoying little b_****!' Without any hesitation, the fiery, short brunette launched into a tirade of insults, curses, and, overall, revealed herself as the owner of an admirable collection of colorful words. 

When Ally was about to lunge at Cheryl's throat, the former decided that it was high time to interfere. Clapping a hand on her friend's shoulder, she hissed, '*_Him le ur._' It was an Elvish phrase Jori commonly used on Ally. As they both loved _the Lord of the Rings_ and admired the Elves, they had studied fragments of the languages as carefully as the author, J.R.R. Tolkien, had formed them. 

(A.N. *_Him le ur._ --> Cool thy(thou) heat.) 

Suddenly, a stranger seemingly appeared from thin air and exclaimed, '*_Quenuvalye i lambar Eldareva!_' His speech was foreign, and his voice was clear and merry--it was by far the fairest voice that ever rang in the girls' ears. 

(A.N. *_Quenuvalye i lambar Eldareva!_ --> Thou canst speak the tongues of the Elves!) 

Crying out in surprise, all three girls fell backwards and toppled over each other. Jori slammed her hand on the dirt and almost immediately scrambled back up. Her widened green eyes drank in the sight of the most beautiful being she had ever seen. He was tall, golden-haired, and had not one single flaw in his graceful appearance. Though garbed in green and brown, it seemed as though he were enveloped in a soft white light. Her gaze suddenly stopped and zoned in on his ears--his pointed ears. 'A-_Ally_! B-blimey, he's got _pointed ears_! Ally! _Ally_! Bloody hell, he's got bloomin' _pointed ears_!' Jori shouted in a continuous stream, pointing at him. '_And_ a _bow_! Do you see that, Ally?! That's bloody _wicked_!' 

Without warning, another tall figure appeared and placed himself beside his companion with fluid grace. He was as exquisite and beguiling as the first, his shimmering gold hair flowing freely down his back, and a gentle light wreathed his form as well. '*_Man nar le?_' he asked. 

(A.N. *_Man nar le?_ --> Who art thou[plural]?) 

Jori's mind raced. _That language! Fair hair... clear and light eyes... flawless and beautiful faces... green and brown garb... curved and elaborate bows... pointed ears!_ Realisation poured all over Jori's baffled thoughts. When she spoke, her voice was strangled and there was a lump in the back of her throat. _Good god... these are..._ '*_ELDAR!_' 

(A.N. *_ELDAR!_ --> ELVES!) 

'*_Met nar eldar. _Le_ œ-nar. Le nar edain,_' said the second Elf with a frown upon his brow. '*_Le esse na...?_' 

(A.N. *_Met nar eldar. _Le_ œ-nar. Le nar edain._ --> We two are Elves. _Thou_ art [plural] not. Thou art [plural] Men [humans]. *_Le esse na...?_ --> Thee [thy] name is...?) 

'Schmuck, schmuck, schmuck, schmuck... _Holy jiminy cricket_!' Ally jumped up and grabbed the back of Jori's jumper. 'Jori, they're fudging _Elves_!' she screamed in Jori's ear. 

'That's what I said!' Jori bellowed back. 

'I know, but I had to say it anyways!' Ally shrieked back. 

'This is bloody mad!' 

'I know, and stop screaming!' 

'But you're screaming, too!' 

'I can't help it!' 

'Me neither!' 

'They're fudging _beautiful_! They're _Elves_!' 

'Bloody hell, I'm in hysterics!' 

'I can't believe this!' 

'I've never been hysterical before!' 

'What's going on?!' 

'We're _hysterical_, genius!' 

'Oh my fudging arse, we're fudging _hysterical_!' 

'Stop screaming!' 

'You're still screaming, so I can scream too!' 

'Shut up!' The two girls shouted at each other simultaneously. They abruptly halted, and stared at each other's white, drawn faces, panting. The silence was suddenly broken by a loud whimper from Cheryl, who was still lying on the ground, dazed by the impact her head had made against a tree root. 

'Sorry,' whispered Jori tersely. 

'Sorry,' replied Ally quietly. 

'*_Glorfindel, hin ieni engwa nar?_' The Elf in green and brown looked very concerned. 

(A.N. *_Glorfindel, hin ieni engwa nar?_ --> Glorfindel, are these maidens sickly?) 

'"Glorfindel"?!' Jori suddenly repeated, numb with shock. '_Bloody_--' 

'--hell,' Ally finished, tawny skin even paler. 'This gets crazier and crazier. We're in _Middle-Earth_.' 

'So, like, you're, like, French?' Cheryl's--unfortunate--powers of speech were registered with dread in Ally and Jori's minds. Swivelling quickly, they saw with horror that Cheryl had recovered from her fall and had approached Glorfindel and his friend. She gave them suggestive smiles and even raised her hand to run it down the first elf's arm. 'I, like, take French courses in, like, college--isn't that, like, a _coincidence_?' She giggled and glanced at them with salacious intent. 'Do you, like, like movies?'--another giggle--'Most of the, like, time, like, I don't, like, _watch_ them because I, like, am _busy_.' She emphasised some words slyly. 

Ally stared. 'How _dumb_ is she?' she said with blatant disbelief, immediate dilemmas at hand temporarily forgotten. 

'She's having a bleeding conversation with _herself_,' Jori muttered, shaking her head. 'They can't understand her! English doesn't _exist_ in Middle-Earth.' She started. 'Oh, imagine the _embarassment_ if they _could_ understand her!' she moaned. 

Ally gripped Jori's shoulder tightly in horrified realisation. 'Oh, _no_. Jori, we _can't communicate with anyone in Middle-Earth_!' 

'The problems keep coming in,' Jori groused. 'What are we going to do?' 

'How good's your Elvish?' asked Ally glumly. 'Because I know I've lost most of the little of mine I had. This should have happened to me in high school--then I would have had at least a chance to be understood.' 

'I'm rusty,' said Jori gloomily, 'and my grammar's bad, I'm sure. Besides, even if I did still remember it well, I'd have a very limited vocabulary.' 

'Wait a minute,' said Ally suddenly. 'Glorfindel is a celebrity! He saved Frodo! Do you think he'd give me an autograph? Oh, and I want a picture, too!' 

'What are you doing, *dipstick?' Jori watched in dismay as Ally started to dig through her pack. 'You're not _honestly_ going to take a bloody picture, are you?' 

(A.N. *dipstick: Brit. slang expression meaning s.o. not too bright.) 

'Of course I am,' said Ally patronisingly. 'Why should I miss this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity?!' 

'You sound like an advertisement,' Jori commented. 

'Ah! I found it!' Ally brandished her camera triumphantly. 

'Er, Ally? I don't think this is a good idea...' Jori said. 'What if they think your camera is some sort of evil weapon?' 

'Oh, don't be silly,' Ally waved her off. 'This is a new digital camera my mother bought for me a couple of weeks ago--isn't it nice? I've been dying for a chance to use it, and...'--she turned to look at Glorfindel and his friend with a beam--'they're just so photogenic!' 

'Ally, what if they feel threatened and decide to attack us?!' 

'Jori, you're pananoid--oh, look! I didn't know my mum packed food for me! Mmm, scones with jam and clotted cream... yum! Hang on... that means I _starved_ myself last night for _nothing_!' 

'Ally, you're not concentrating!' 

'On what, dummy? Oh, have some! Here--ooh, I _love_ clotted cream. Mmm...' 

'_Ally_!' 

'Ah, don't get your panties in a bunch,' Ally tutted. 'There's nothing wrong with eating scones in Middle-Earth, I'm sure. Besides, I'm hungry, and I'll be darned if anyone tries to keep my food from my stomach. Oh! Cheese! Ooh, I _love_ my mother! Here, have some. I've got caramels, too, if you like.' 

'Well,' Jori grumbled, 'at least food doesn't look threatening.' She hesitated for a split second before helping herself to a scone and a generous portion of cheese. 'Mmm, you're right--it's very tasty,' she said thickly through a mouthful of clotted cream. 

'Argh! You glutton!' screeched Ally, glaring at Jori as the dark-haired girl scooped up four more scones and three chunks of cheese. 'You're eating all my food!' 

'You're the one who offered it to me,' said Jori pointedly. 

'But I never said to take so much!' 

'Feh,' replied Jori after stuffing an entire pastry in her mouth. 

'_Feh_. No more for you, guzzler,' grumbled Ally. 'Anyhow, Jori, we have to focus on the immediate problems at hand.' 

'Ally, that's what I've been trying to tell you all along!' Jori growled. 

'First things first. Go tell them we're not enemies.' Ally nudged Jori forward not-so-gently. 

'Er...' Jori found herself looking up at the faces of the elves. She was a tall girl, but these creatures towered over her, making her feel small and insignificant. 'Er... _m-mellon_,' she stammered, pointing at herself. '_Mellon_,' she repeated, pointing to each of her companions. 

Ally gaped. 'Now is _not_ the time to talk about fruits, Jori!' she yelled in disbelief. 

'The Elvish word for friend is "_mellon_"!' Jori shot back. 'With two "L"s instead of one, if I may add." 

'Oh, yeah,' Ally said sheepishly, 'that's right...' She stopped and glared at Jori. 'Goodness... how primitive! Can't you say "We come in peace", like in those alien movies? Or at least use a _plural_ form of "friend"?' 

'I don't _know_ how to say--' 

'*_Quenuvalye i lambar Eldareva,_' said one of the Elves with finality. 

(A.N. This was already translated above, but I'll say it again, anyway. 'Thou canst speak the tongues of the Elves.') 

'Oh, I know what _that_ one means,' commented Ally. 'He thinks that we can speak their language.' 

'Er, then...' Jori paused before simply nodding. 'Argh, this is too difficult! Er... Rivendell?' 

Ally stomped not-so-discreetly on her friend's foot. 'Don't sound so grumpy!' was her advice. 

'_Ow_!' Jori slowly let out a breath, trying to soothe her simmering irritation. _If only we could speak Westron, at least!_ she thought furiously. Suddenly, she felt something warm pulse against her collarbone. _Bloody hell! What--_

**B-bump. B-bump. B-bump.**

Jori struggled not to gasp as she felt an unbearable heat soar up her throat. Choking, she tried to ignore the burning pain invading her lungs. Glancing sideways, she noticed Ally and Cheryl having similar reactions to hers. They were writhing wildly in place, hands around their necks. 

**B-bump.** The searing pain abruptly sharpened, then gave way to a disturbing tingle. Mechanically, Jori raised her right hand to where the warmth and pulse had been. Her shaking fingers touched something cool and smooth. _My pendant..._

Ally swallowed experimentally. 'What happened? Did...' Her eyes widened as she registered what had left her lips. Instead of the slurred and accented English she normally used, a small series of utterly foreign sounds had emerged. 

Realisation dawned on Jori. _That must be the Westron tongue, I'm sure! Whatever it was that happened just now must have triggered this, because I can understand what she's saying!_ Clearing her throat, Jori made her own attempt. 'A-ally?' She frowned--it sounded as it had ever been. _Well, of course,_ she mentally reprimanded herself. _It's her_ name_, after all... I don't think it would have changed._ She tried again. 'Ally... I think we're speaking Westron.' Success.This time, her words were not in English. 

Ally pointed an accusing finger at her friend, shrieking, 'I _knew_ it! There's something _fishy_ going on here!' 

The forgotten Elves spoke again--this time in Westron. 'Are you well?' one asked politely. 

Jori swallowed. 'As well as we'll ever be,' she croaked. 

Ally leaned weakly against a tree. 'Holy jiminy cricket...' 

'What's going on?' someone demanded shrilly. 'What... _what am I saying_?!' 

'Westron,' Ally replied unwillingly. 'Be quiet. My nerves are already in pretty bad shape--I don't need you to make them worse.' 

'Er... We're looking for Rivendell,' Jori said slowly. 

The two Elves spoke softly to each other. 'We will help you,' they said finally in a kind manner. The taller Elf lightly tipped his head. 'I am Glorfindel, who dwells in the house of Elrond.' 

'And I am Legolas, a messenger from my father, Thranduil, the King of the Elves of Northern Mirkwood,' said Legolas, tipping his head in the same gesture as Glorfindel. 

'We are...' Ally stopped to clear her throat and nudged Jori's leg with her foot. 

'We... are travelers,' Jori improvised instantly. 'I'm Jorielle Syrien. This is Ally Clark, and this is Cheryl Brooks.' Unsure of the proper decorum required, she bowed hesitantly with her palms against her thighs in the Japanese manner. Ally and Cheryl dubiously copied her movements. 

When they straightened, they noticed with dismay the amusement on the faces of Legolas and Glorfindel. _Whoops, wrong move,_ thought Jori sheepishly. 'Er, this is the way we greet strangers in... in our country.' _Good cover,_ she cheered to herself. 

'Oh boy,' Ally muttered in a low voice. 'I can't believe we're making fools out of ourselves in front of celebrities.' 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
A.N. *wipes forehead* Whew. Well, that's the third chapter done! Don't expect me back for a rather long time... I thought that I'd get a lot of work done during the summer, but I ended up spending 60% of my summer studying, 38% reading, and merely 2% writing... I'm sorry! *cower* And now I don't even have the option of time to write on my hands, anymore! *fervently* I promise to all my readers that the next vacation I have, I'll devote myself entirely to writing! 

Now, review! The more reviews I get, the more I get energy to write! 

Oh, and if you would like new and VERY improved pictures of Jori, Ally, Legolas, and Glorfindel (they're all I have for now), then e-mail me! 

Cheers,  
~Lanti~ 

  
PS: A lot of thanks to my loyal friend Ally-chan, who somehow has the patience to deal with my horrible HTML skills (or so she claims)!

Ally: Keh. Your HTML sucks! *to the reader* Since Lanti-chan's computer doesn't want her to log onto FanFiction.Net, she e-mails me all her new chapters and-

Lanti: This isn't your fic! Get your own!

Ally: Shaddup! I'm workin' here! *thwaps Lanti* Anyway, once I get the new chapters, I read them (a perk) then post them. The thing is, Lanti-chan's HTML skills are so god-awful that I end up having to fix them! I had to fix this chapter _five times_!

Lanti: Poor baby.

Ally: Yes I am- HEY! *chases Lanti around the room* 


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